exactly the kind of classified work she imagined Anthony did, full of risk and a dangerous, deadly kind of thrill.
She had a sudden understanding of how ignorance could be bliss.
“The man heading the organization, Victor Carranza, was very elusive, and Anthony had a difficult time establishing a relationship with him.” Josh jabbed the logs one last time before setting the brass poker back in its stand. Then he turned around and faced her. “There’s a woman who works for Carranza. Her name is Bridget, and she’s one of his runners. Since Anthony had little luck with Carranza himself, he switched tactics and decided to focus his attention on Bridget. It didn’t take Anthony long to get close to her. Within a couple of weeks, Anthony knew most of Carranza’s contacts.”
He started toward her, his gaze troubled, yet bright with determination. Sitting on the cushion next to her, he gently grabbed her hand, holding it within his palm. Though his fingers were warm, a startling chill thinned her blood.
“Paige…” He cut himself off, a muscle in his lean jaw flexing. “Christ, there’s no easy way to say this.”
A peculiar combination of anticipation and unease tripped up her pulse. “Say what, Josh?”
Regret softened his features, and he stroked his fingers along her hand. The display of solace only served to unnerve her.
He let out a slow breath, his mouth thinning in displeasure. “From what we’ve learned, Anthony was having an affair with her-”
Snatching her hand from his grasp, she bolted off the couch and crossed the room. Standing by the fireplace, her back to Josh, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her middle, doing her best to hold herself together. She hadn’t bargained for the more sordid details of Anthony’s undercover assignment, never would have guessed Josh would be the one to force her to deal with issues she’d deliberately tried to ignore.
So, Anthony
Knowing he’d deny any wrongdoing, she found it difficult to argue with his convenient excuse. Ultimately, she hadn’t believed him.
Since his death, she had made more discoveries, and had found irrefutable evidence of his infidelity: creditcard purchases for women’s lingerie, jewelry and other feminine frivolities she’d never received, charges for elegant hotel suites she’d never enjoyed with her husband, and expensive dinners at five-star restaurants she’d never been to.
Now one of the women he’d cavorted with had a name. The sense of betrayal twisting through her was excruciating.
The weight of Josh’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, and she flinched at his touch. She’d been so lost in her own unsettling thoughts she hadn’t realized he’d come up behind her.
“I’m so sorry, Paige,” he said, his voice contrite, but fueled by an underlying purpose. “The woman Anthony was having an affair with-”
Abruptly, she jerked away, whirled around to face him, and held up a hand to waylay his words. “I don’t want to hear this!”
He braced his hands on his hips and glowered at her, all previous signs of gentleness and understanding gone. The firelight painted his skin a warm gold hue, made his dark, silky hair gleam, giving him the appearance of a merciless, fierce warrior. “You don’t have a choice.” His tone was succinct and brooked no compromise.
“What Anthony did, and with whom, is now a moot point,” she snapped, her emotions frayed. “He’s
“What Anthony did was steal a valuable diamond-and-emerald necklace!” he shot back, his tone just as loud and angry.
She gasped in shock and reeled back. Denial came just as swiftly. “You’re wrong!” Her voice cracked, right along with a chunk of her composure. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe what he was saying. “Goddammit, Josh, you’re wrong!”
“I wish to hell I was, Paige.” He stepped toward her, and when she backed up out of his reach, he swore. “Anthony stole the Ivanov necklace from a collection of jewels that was smuggled in from Russia. The diamonds and emeralds in that necklace are reportedly worth over a million dollars, and Anthony stole it from the woman he was having an affair with before she could hand the collection over to Carranza. They knew the piece was missing, but it took Carranza a few weeks to track down who’d taken it. All traces led back to Anthony.”
Tears burned the back of her throat and stung her eyes. She choked on a sob she couldn’t hold back. “You’re lying!” Her accusation lacked conviction, but she wanted so badly for this moment in time to be nothing more than a nightmare, a trick of her imagination.
But Josh had never lied to her before.
“The investigation has been concluded and the facts confirmed by the men still working undercover on the case,” Josh ruthlessly went on. “The woman set him up for that explosion in the boat. Carranza found out he’d taken the Ivanov necklace, and when he denied it, they killed him. They had no idea he was a cop-”
Unable to listen to any more, incapable of understanding her husband’s multiple deceptions, she let out a deep, guttural cry that was ripped from the depths of her soul. “Nooo!” She came at Josh, fists flailing, striking out at him for every one of her husband’s indiscretions, his betrayal, his disloyalty. “No, no, no!” All at once her blows landed on his chest, his arms, his shoulder. A crack resounded as her fist unexpectedly connected with his jaw.
“Dammit,” he bit out, and caught her wrists, the strength of his grasp easily restraining her.
She stopped thrashing, tilted her head back and looked into Josh’s eyes. They were filled with the same haunting emotions that gripped her. She realized that Anthony’s actions had hurt him, too.
Oh, God, she felt so torn, disillusioned, and so painfully, horribly alone. Then the dam broke, the sheer magnitude of her anguish wracking her body with great soul-wrenching sobs.
Without a word, knowing what she needed, Josh pulled her into his arms, cradled her against his chest and held her while she purged herself of all her pent-up grief and rage. He stroked her back, murmuring soothing words as her tears dampened his skin, but not once did he tell her everything was going to be all right.
“Why, Josh?” she whispered achingly, once the worst of her emotional barrage had ebbed. She lifted her head from his shoulder to look into his eyes, seeking more answers. “What did I do wrong?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Josh whispered, their faces so close she could feel the caress of his warm breath on her lips. Lifting his hand, he brushed his knuckles tenderly across her cheek, wiping away the last of the moisture lingering there. “It was nothing you did. It was just the way Anthony was.”
She was beginning to understand that, but it didn’t lessen the pain of his duplicity. “I never really knew him.”
“I don’t think any of us did,” he admitted. Drawing in a steadying lungful of air that expanded his chest, he went on in a rush, “Paige, there’s more I need to tell you.”
Her stomach clenched, and before she could think about what she was doing, she pressed her fingers over his lips. “No, Josh,” she said in a ragged voice. “Please, no.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring that she was clinging, because it felt so good to be held like this, as if she meant something to someone.
It had been so long.
“Ah, Paige…” A shudder rippled the length of him and she sensed that self-control of his slip; she could feel his acquiescence in the way his breathing deepened, the way his hands slowly, languidly slid down her spine and gripped her hips-not to push her away, but to bring her closer still.
The awareness they’d fought to suppress for years sizzled to life between them-a need so compelling it shook Paige to the very core.
Turning her head, she let her lashes drift shut and inhaled Josh’s clean male scent. A deep, forgotten longing stole through her, and she boldly skimmed her lips along his jaw, tasting his skin, seeking a more elemental comfort, a more primal contact.
She needed this affirmation of her existence. She needed to feel alive, wanted and desired. Swallowing her pride, she told him in a soft, husky whisper, “I need you, Josh.”
